


Indulgence

by lesbanese (vouloir)



Category: Happiest Season (2020)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:40:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27923167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vouloir/pseuds/lesbanese
Summary: minutes in heaven
Relationships: Sloane Caldwell/Riley Johnson
Comments: 5
Kudos: 96





	Indulgence

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't get Riley/Sloane out of my head so had to write something, this sort of takes place right after Sloane and Harper had that fight, there's plot if you close your eyes. :p

“Ugh,” Sloane curls her lip in disgust at the sight of her husband, no ex husband, making out with Carolyn in one of the supply closets. He barely so much as moved to reassure it’s being kept quiet until whatever courage she would be able to muster to tell her parents it was all over. Her insatiable need for perfection and control dissolves as hastily as it develops. Harper was the perfect daughter in their parents’ eyes and the opportunity to ruin said perfection caused a tussle with Harper after seeing the closeness she shares with Abby. 

The holiday decoration Harper hit her with left little scratches that sting like the many paper cuts the twins caused in their crafting eagerness on her hands. Her nails skirt across a particularly long one, red and angry, on the back of her hand. She wasn’t ready to head downstairs yet, Harper ran off for damage control as they heard their mom yelling at the bottom of the staircase, Abbey soon followed but not without a glare in her direction.

The desire to be alone suddenly overwhelms Sloane and she ducks into the nearest closet, sweet relief filling her. She bumps into something, rather _someone_ , and jumps.

“Well this is certainly awkward,” Riley muses. She is leaning against the opposite shelf, a bottle of red wine open beside her, evident by the stained mulberry tint on her lips. Her glass is almost empty, smudged with previous rouge.

Sloane narrows her eyes in suspicion and asks, “What are you doing in the closet?”

“I could ask you the same,” Riley responds, a playful smirk beneath her glass. The party below was terribly boring and the persistent doctoral needs of the snobby patrons caused her a slight ache in the head, never mind the wine filling her gut. A closet was the one place she didn’t expect anyone to bother her , a makeshift sanctuary of sorts, but as Sloane entered the fray, an ache begins again, only somewhere _new_.

Sloane’s eyes grow wide, “You heard everything that happened outside?!” and she nicks at the scratches again. 

She doesn’t understand why embarrassment clouded her mind over the prospect of Riley knowing. Her hands toy with the hem of her dress, a silly attempt at banishing nonexistent creases there, really it was only the many nervous ticks she displays. Riley watches those hands move, wishes herself to be the one lifting that hem.

“Harper has been dipping in the lady pool right under our noses!” Sloane states in disbelief, almost as if it’s a foreign concept. She reaches for the wine bottle beside Riley, accidentally brushing her arm against her shoulder before nearly downing it. Riley watches the spectacle in awe, the thin sheen of sweat coating Sloane’s neck is tantalizing.

“When was the last time someone dipped into your lady pool?”, Riley asks, she crosses her arms over her chest in challenge despite her teasing tone. The question makes Sloane nearly choke on the wine, it dribbles down her chin, staining the front of the dress.

“There’s evidence of that outside,” Sloane deadpans, failing to blotch the wine stain with a piece of craft paper stacked neatly from the shelf.

Riley lets out a hearty laugh, surprised by Sloane’s wit, “You got jokes but you know exactly what I mean.”

She steps in front of Sloane, closing their proximity in an already cramped space. The stain has spread across Sloane’s chest and Riley can see a hardened nipple poking through. Her finger traces the outline of it, barely touching Sloane. She hears the woman gasp and retracts her hand but much to her own personal excitement, Sloane drags her hand back to her breast in encouragement.

“I’m divorced, this is totally okay...”, Sloane grumbles, flustered even frustrated by the faintest touch nearly setting her off. Riley senses that and steps back for a moment, examining the cuts on Sloane’s hand.

“We definitely don’t have to do anything especially if you aren’t comfortable-“, Riley begins but Sloane cuts her off.

 _“Doctor_ , as much as I love your prattle over my own personal comfort, you’ve been holding my hand when I want to ride yours,” Sloane’s tone is domineering and blunt, it sends a shiver of anticipation through Riley.

“I don’t usually take orders,” Riley teases, she places a kiss to Sloane’s hand and takes her fingers greedily into her mouth then begins to suck them.

“ _Oh my god_ ,” Sloane moans, “You will from me,” her knees buckle slightly and Riley grips her waist, fingers digging hard as if to will the dress away.

Her pride will not allow the admission of how desperate she is, repressed in a dull, insipid marriage for months. She pulls Riley by the hair and into a kiss so deep, tongue shoving into the woman’s mouth. It earns her a moan and Sloane wants to hear it again. Riley tastes sweet yet bitter from the wine, the forcefulness of their kissing leaves her wet, practically dripping. Sloane reaches for her trousers but Riley pins her wrists against the shelf above her.

“Not this time,” Riley whispers into her ear and she nips the edge. 

Her hands move with renewed purpose, pushing the hem of Sloane’s dress up to her waist and thanks whatever higher power that it stayed there. Riley gently runs her fingers across soaked lace, a wet spot growing larger by each touch. Sloane whines into her neck, hips shifting to seek relief. Riley dips her fingers under the waistband only to hoist up the front lace to allow Sloane to grind at the incessant pressure it creates against her folds. Riley brings their lips together for another sensuous kiss, but Sloane fed up a little too soon with all the teasing, bites at Riley’s lower lip earning her a lack of movement instead.

“Do you want everyone to know what happened in here?”, Riley chides, her tone still teasing

She feels Sloane cant her hips against nothing but air, tries to reach her thigh for some friction. Riley decides just maybe to be a little more giving with the holidays and all. Her fingers push the now extremely ruined lace that squelches to the side to finally touch Sloane directly. They both moan in unison as Riley strokes the soft, delicate flesh, eagerness coating her fingertips. She toys with the hood of her clit, purposely avoiding the swollen tip.

Sloane groans, her need overwhelming that she forgets Riley has her wrists pinned to the shelf when all she wants to do is hold onto the woman. Riley lets them go, her intuitiveness never ceases to surprise Sloane, considering they only know each other by causal association. Sloane wraps her arms around Riley’s neck as she continues to work between her thighs.

“ _Riley, please,_ ” Sloane whispers into her neck, presses a kiss there. 

Riley enters her and she gasps, feels her inner walls clenching around them. It was enough for her to nearly scream “at last!”, but the moment halts.

“Sloane? Can we please talk?”, they hear Harper’s voice from the hallway, assuming that Sloane was holed up in her room and not on the brink of an orgasm in a closet.

Sloane feels Riley smirk against her cheek, her fingers haven’t stopped their thrusting as her hips eagerly follow to meet them. She could hear them move inside her and once Riley’s palm brushes against her clit, she cries out, _“Oh god yes!”_

“Umm... wow okay. I wasn’t expecting you to be so willing to talk,” Harper continues, oblivious to what is unfolding.

Riley would laugh if the risk of her ex finding out she’s gotten involved with her sister wasn’t high. She inserts another finger with no resistance, Sloane desperately keeps herself from making noise but can’t ignore her sister.

“Not now!”, Sloane shouts, head lulling back against the shelf. Her legs are shaking now, thighs wet and quivering to keep her weight up as pleasure continues to mount. Riley keeps her steady with a hand on her hip.

“Everyone knows about Abby and I,” Harper lets out a sigh, “They don’t know about your divorce.” and they hear her footsteps grow fainter in the hallway.

Sloane lets out a shaky breath, her climax hitting her and Riley keeps it going for as long as possible, continuously thrusting until Sloane slumps into her arms. She brushes her now overly sensitive clit one last time, sending a little jolt of pleasure before removing her fingers entirely. Sloane shivers at the sensation, feeling an emptiness. 

She watches Riley lick her fingers clean and groans, probably the hottest thing she’s ever seen. The desire to return the pleasure overtakes her but Riley is quick to stop her.

“Another time yeah?,” Riley smiles at her, the implication is filled with hope. Sloane matches that smile, her breathing still ragged. 

Riley takes the cuff of her blazer to wipe at the wetness along her inner thighs. Sloane could joke about how that is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for her but opts to close her eyes instead to revel in contentment. Riley brings the hem of her dress down then kisses her temple.

“Yes, I’d like that,” Sloane answers, her breathing has recovered, “I should probably go talk to Harper,” she smoothes her hair back in place, “and Riley? Thank you.”

Riley nods, shoving her hands in her pockets. “What for, Sloane?”, she asks, confusion heavy in her voice.

“I almost forgot what any of that feels like,” Sloane confesses and she steps forward to kiss Riley who returns it avidly. They walk out together, ready to face reality once again.


End file.
